Communication
by rallamajoop
Summary: Team 10, a restaurant, and a look at some of the inner workings of the mind of an Akamichi. It all works out in the end.


_Author's notes: This is actually the first Naruto fic I ever started. As such, it is short and fairly silly, but a victory over anything which has been in the 'unfinished' folder for that long is still a victory to be savoured._

* * *

Akamichi Chouji had a problem. 

It was not a problem of earth shattering nature, even he would have to admit that were the matter pressed, nor even a problem particularly big when rated on the personal scale of problems Chouji dealt with on a regular basis. It was, however, the problem that was occupying the majority of his attention at the moment; and with that factored in the scale ceased to have much relevance.

Taking the broad view, that problem was Yamanaka Ino.

This was not to say he actively disliked his teammate. Perhaps she was a little irritating sometimes, but one of the things that set the Akamichis apart from most of Konoha's older clans was that they were, on the whole, easy-going people. They respected their teammates, they got on with people, even the ones who didn't hold regular dinner parties; and Chouji was no exception. He really hadn't minded Ino since she learned to keep the jibes about his weight to a minimum. So while she might not be his absolute first choice of people to spend lunch with, her presence alone was no more than the tip of the issue.

Taking the more specific view, that problem was Yamanaka Ino's lunch. Which that same Yamanaka Ino had failed to pay any sort of respect for the past twenty minutes. And being an Akamichi, Chouji recognised this as quite distinctly wrong.

Now, the simple way out, as Chouji reasoned, would be to offer to take care of it for her. Since waving her order to the waitress when she first arrived, Ino had shown a complete lack of recognition that they'd come here for lunch at all. Chouji, by comparison, had already long since made it through his own, two extra helpings, one desert and most of a small salad (despite Shikamaru's half hearted insistence that it was only on the table for decoration) and would, in other circumstances, have been reasonably happy to call it a day on this particular meal.

The trouble was, communicating his offer to take care of that pesky lunch was proving difficult. There was a reason for this, in fact the same reason the afore-mentioned lunch had received such little attention; Ino was off on one of her tirades again. Something had clearly upset her. It seemed to be about something Sakura had done with Sasuke. Or possibly something Sasuke had done with Sakura. Or might have done. Or was going to do. Or maybe she'd just seen them both in the same building sometime in the past week. The exact details had escaped Chouji, since his meal had arrived around the point where she'd started and that had proved awfully distracting. Quite aside from which, one quickly learnt that around Ino the best strategy was often just to tune out.

All of which, of course, was only compounding the problem.

Relaxed though they might be, Akamichi tradition was quite definite on the subject of wasted food. One simply did not treat good cooking with that sort of disrespect

Shikamaru's own lunch was mostly gone and therefore no longer fair game unless leftovers were specifically offered. He'd been about half way through it when Ino arrived; rather late, decidedly flustered and already gearing up for a good rant; and he seemed to have lost his appetite around that stage. He had made one attempt to interrupt her with the facts early on (ie, that even Sasuke's combined interest in her, Sakura and everyone else who'd ever made googley eyes at him would fit into a shuriken pouch without removing a single shuriken first), but regretted it as soon as it became clear that Ino had already reached the stage at which that only gave her more fuel. She went right on talking even as Shikamaru signaled the waitress, made his all but drowned-out request and sighed his way back into the conversation at the waitress's not-actually-all-that-knowing look. The eyebrow twitch he'd been developing was coming along nicely.

Ino was obviously going about this all wrong. The Akamichi cookbook (passed down like a succession technique through the generations since times untold and scarcely less valued) listed over a dozen different criteria for selecting a satisfying meal in times of plenty; including the company, weather, the time of year, three different astrological factors, the size of the room, preparation time available and, of course, your mood. Personally, Chouji had not always necessarily observed all those factors in favour of a nice convenient packet of crisps, but the mood stuff he would have though was a given.

He'd tell her that, if he wasn't certain she'd chew his head off for it. And if he could get a word in edgeways. In fact, he was seriously considering calling the waitress back for some good surviving-the-tirade-food, if he'd only had any money left. Tedium makes him hungry.

It was at about this point that the ice-cream Sunday landed on the table, right in front of Ino, to her near comical surprise. You could practically see the war of the neurons behind her crumpled brow as she tried to remember whether she ordered desert, while the remainder of her brain fought the battle between the continued need to vent and a long trained calorie-phobia against the lure of comfort sugar.

"Did I order this?" She asked aloud.

"Who knows?" Said Shikamaru, without moving from his slump. "If you don't eat it it's gonna melt."

The sugar proved too tempting to give up. Ino attempted to compromise between ranting and eating, but by halfway down the glass the sugar had clearly won, and the boys were treated to several rare minutes of silence.

"You done?" Shikamaru prompted her when the ice-cream was gone. Chouji mentally braced for impact.

Ino made a valiant to start up her rant again, but now she'd lost her momentum. "Done?" Yes, I'm _done_." She said, mumbling something incomprehensible involving the words Sakura, Sasuke and 'done' as she got up. She paid for her meal – still sitting untouched on the table – and headed for the door. She did seem to be trying to storm, but her heart wasn't really in it.

Just to make sure, once she'd vanished around the corner Chouji asked "You think Ino's alright? She seemed pretty worked up."

"She's fine." Shikamaru replied with trademark disinterest. "She's just getting desperate enough that she'd rather latch on to any hint he likes Sakura than admit he's not interested in either of them."

Chouji was impressed – he wouldn't have thought of that. But Shikamaru thought so, so it must be true. "That was good thinking, with the ice cream and all."

Shikamaru rolled his eyes and slid the still uneaten lunch across the table. "Shut up and eat, Chouji." He suggested companionably.

Why argue with that? Chouji set about doing the meal the justice it deserved.

For a guy who proclaimed to hate girls, Shikamaru sure got them a lot better than he'd probably admit. Or for a non-Akamichi, he got food pretty well. Worked out pretty well either way.

If only food could solve all team problems so easily.


End file.
